#Just remembered that she tried this shit again
Note
Hi! Can I send kinda silly request for Eddie and reader? (I read this fun fact in some scientific magazine 😅)
Reader and Eddie are trying to have a baby so she's getting off pill but Eddie read in some girly magazine that after getting on pill women's taste in men changes.
So after getting off, it changes again to original set up. (Scientists conducted some research in which women even started to hate smell of their man, pheromones or some shit.)
The boy is scared that this scientific thing is gonna work in their case also. So he starts to take a shower few times a day and wear enormous amount of cologne non stop.
Reader can't stand it so she have to prove him she still desires him. (Also she can't stop laughing for a while when he tells her)
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
His smell
Y/N and Eddie had been married for almost two years, and they were itching to have a baby.
Y/N went off the pill and they had been trying and trying for a baby all the time. Eddie swore he was in the prime time of his life.
Eddie waited in the waiting room as Y/N sat in her appointment. He was bored out of his mind and picked up one of the magazines. He flipped through it, even more, bored as the scientific facts put him to sleep.
But then something made him jump awake
"Getting off the pill? Think twice because you may not desire your man anymore"
Eddie quickly skimmed the page, his eyes reading the words faster than he had ever read in his life. Eddie felt like he held his breath as he read all the small articles. From what his brain understood, Scientists conducted some research in which women even started to hate the smell of their man.
Eddie closed the magazine and threw it back on the table.
"Ready?" Y/N asked, looking down at Eddie with a huge smile
Eddie nodded and stood up. He kept looking back at that magazine until they were out the door.
Then he sprayed cologne on like he had the money for ten bottles. Which he did not.
~~~
Eddie hated how paranoid he was. He woke up and showered, he refused to wear anything twice, and then he'd shower before bed. Sometimes he even took up to three or four showers. He was constantly scrubbing his body. He even stole her body wash and towels.
But he refused to smell around his wife.
~~~
"Eddie? This water bill is through the roof. What have you been doing?" Y/N laughed as she looked at their bills.
"Nothing, why is it me?" He asked as he sipped on his cold beer. He took the seat across from her.
"Because I haven't been doing anything different. So that leaves you. Why is the water bill so high?" She asked again
"Just taking some showers" Eddie shrugged
"But why? I mean you sometimes shower even if you did nothing."
"You can still be dirty after doing nothing!" Eddie defended
"Eddie, I've seen you not shower after many things that needed a shower. What's going on?" She asked, she reached over and rubbed his hand. "Are you sneaking in there to do something?"
"NO!" Eddie said, "It's just...I don't want to smell around you."
Y/N blinked in confusion as she stared at her husband
"Since when have you ever cared about that? Two weeks ago you shoved my face in your armpit and asked if you need more deodorant." Y/N said
"Fine, remember when we went to the doctor?"
Y/N nodded as Eddie continued
"I read something that said...after you get off the pill things change. And sometimes women begin to...hate the smell of their man." Eddie kept his eyes on his beer
It was silent
And then
Y/N was laughing her ass off
"Wow, what an amazing wife you are!" Eddie pouted as he yanked his hand away from hers.
"Oh Eddie stop it!" She laughed, "I just...you are adorable."
"You are laughing at me!" Eddie whined as he threw his head back
"Baby, look at me," she said, she tried her best to hold back her laugh
He sighed but looked at her
"I still desire you and your smell." She said, but giggled.
"I so believe you," Eddie said as he rolled his eyes. "My own wife making fun of me." He continued to pout as he stood up and walked over to the couch.
Y/N followed him, holding back her laughs.
Eddie planted himself on the couch with a huff
"I'm just surprised you read science," she said as she stood above him
"I was bored!" Eddie defended
"I think it's sexy you wanted me to desire you."
"Really?" He asked, his puppy eyes looked back up at her
"Makes me desire you even more," she said, her voice low as she placed herself on his lap.
His hands moved to wrap around her waist without a thought
She leaned down and smelled his neck, her nose traveled up his neck and tickled his skin.
"You smell good enough to sink my teeth into," she purred into his neck
He squeezed her hips as he felt his body react to her words
"Want me to prove how much I still desire you?" She asked, a twinkle in her eye as she smiled down on him
"I think that's the nice thing to do," he said with a smirk
She squealed as he threw her over his shoulder and ran them into their bedroom.
Tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie stranger things#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson request#eddie munson fluff x reader#ashwhowrites#eddie munson angst#eddie munson angst x reader
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"So what if I was?"
prompt: “Aww. If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were worried about me. + “So what if I was?”
word count:2,139
warnings: blood, maybe two cuss words
“C’mon it’ll be fun y/n,” Liana begged me. “I’ll get on my hands and knees,” she added going down when I grabbed her shoulders and stopped her. “No it’s okay no need for all of that,” I laugh,” I’ll go. Just because I love you.” Everyone laughed and grabbed their skates and headed for the door. That was the thing about when Mat came back home for a visit, he was never alone. Someone always came with him, whether that be a girl or one of his teammates. Luckily for me this time it was the latter.
“Okay so how are we gonna do this,” Tito asked sitting down lacing up his skates. As I sat beside him on the bench right next to the frozen lake, I began to tie my own skates up. “Obvisouly the two of you can’t be on a team that’s unfair,” my best friend pointed out to her brother and his friend. “So it’s a lose-lose situation,” Mat groans stepping onto the oce. “What do you mean by that,” i snap back already sick of the constant attitude he had since he came home three days ago.
“Oh c’mon. You’re a smart girl, or is that just a front so you can go off and party your way through college,” Mat smirks throwing yet another dig my direction. We didn’t always have such a draining relationship. Once upon a time I considered Mat a friend, not just because I was best friends with his sister but we were friends. Something changed and as sad as it was to realize him stepping away and being cold towards me just made me realize something I had tried to push away for so long. I had feelings for Mat and everytime he has a smart remark or a comment about me it breaks my heart just a little more.
“Some of us actually care about an education rather than trying to get by on our pretty looks,” I quip back stepping onto the ice and doing a small turn. “You think I’m pretty,” he smirekd my way and I wanted nothing more than to swipe that smug look off of his gorgeous face. “How about you and Beau goof around while we skate for a bit,” Lia suggested. I knew that she missed her brother and playing hockey with him. I took and deep breath and then let it out. “No Li you play around with them for a little. I’m a big girl I’ll be fine skating by myself,” i smile at her and watch her face brighten. “Are you sure,” she asked and when I nodded she launched forward pulling us both down as she hugged me.
After some time I was growing bored so the same small circles so I started to do some spins and tricks, remembering some of the small details from ice skating lessons years ago. As I did a jump and turn I didn’t stick it and fell on my butt. Sighing I get up and dust off the ice. “Wow that was just sad,” I hear Mat shout from across the lake. I flip him off and try the jump again this time going harder. I landed it perfectly but with just a little too much force and the hit started to crack. I froze not knowing what to do. My eyes snapped up to meet the other three. They could all sense something wrong and they were a distance away. Mat slowly skated my way, Tito and Lia behind him. He was the closest to me so he would het there first.
“Hey look at me okay.”You’re gonna be fine,” his voice was calming and I nodded shifting my weight and hearing the crack get louder. I look down and start to wobble. “Hey no, look at me okay? You can’t look down,” I met his eyes and didn’t break my focus on them. He carefully made his way closer to me and surveyed his surrounding looking for the best way to get me out of this mess. He didn’t have anytime to think because the ice gave way. I tensed up waiting for the freezing lake water to surround me but the only thing i felt was a warm body colliding with mine and us both falling onto the ground a few feet away from the hole in the ice.
“Shit,” Mat hissed out and I looked up feeling a dull ache in my head from moving ti too fast. I realized that my forehead made contact with his nose on the way down and it was know bleeding. “Oh my gosh. Mat I am so so sorry. Are you okay,” I ask pulling some tissue from my pocket and applying pressure to his nose to stop the bleeding.
“Aw. If I didn’t know any better I’d say that you were worried about me,” he says forcing a laugh. I roll my eyes and hold the napkin onto his nose to try and stop the bleeding. I look down at him scanning his face for any other injuries, finally meeting his brown eyes. His forehead crinkles and he takes in my scared expression.
“So what if I was,” I whisper scared if I spoke any louder he would laugh at me or run for the hills. His hand came up and held the wrist of the arm helping stop his nose bleeding. He pulls my arm away from his face and goes to open his mouth when we are interrupted. “Oh my gosh Mat are you okay,” Tito asked rushing towards us quickly taking my place and observing Mat.
I step back and notice a group has gathered around us checking on the hockey player. As I move to make my way back to the house, I turn around and notice Mat’s eyes still on me. I feel a hand on my forearm and run to see Liana standing next to me. She gave me a sad smile. “Let’s get you out of these wet clothes and into something warmer okay,” she says sweetly leading me inside.
“How long,” her voice breaks me out of my trance and I snap my head towards her. “What,” I was shivering, not sure if it was from the cold or her question. “C’mon y/n. We’ve been best friends forever, I know you better than anyone else. And you know me better than anyone else right,” she asked waiting for me to respond. I nodded my head and pulled a sweatshirt over my head. I joined her on the couch and she tossed her blanket over to cover us both.
“So I know when you are upset and more so when you are hiding something,” her eyes give me a once over and I sigh knowing she is right. “A little over a year now,” I respond turning my head and not making eye contact. Of course, I knew what she was asking. She wasn’t dumb by any means and she was my best friend of course she could read my emotions better than anyone else. “You’ve liked my brother for that long now and never said anything,” she asked pity creeping its way onto her face. “Yep. It’s sad I know,” I sniffle fighting back the tears threatening to spill. I feel her presence and then arms wrapping around me.
“Oh, sweetie no. It is nowhere near sad,” she reassures me, hands running up and down my arms comforting me. “It is though. He has never seen me that way and he never will. Especially now that he is on the Islanders. He could have any model he wanted. Why would he pick me,” I cry finally letting all of the emotions I have had stored up for the past year out. “ No model holds a candle to you, babe. You are the most compassionate, generous, and understanding person I know. You have always had this glow around you and make anyone feel so seen and understood. Plus you are like smoking hot,” she says making me stop crying and laugh. “Thanks, Li,” I snort laughing and she joins in.
When everyone finally made their way back inside Mama Barzal helped Mat get settled in bed and finished up dinner. We all sat around the table and ate our soup trying to warm ourselves up from the exciting outdoor hockey game we held. Slowly one by one everyone finished and started to head to the living room for game night. I stayed behind to help clean up. “Hey, sweet girl. Would you mind taking this up to Mat? I need to finish this up and you don’t have to help me clean,” she smiles over at me, knowing I can’t say no to the woman who became like another mom to me many years ago.
“Of course I will,” I smile trying to hide the panic in my voice. I grabbed a bowl of the soup and put it on the bed tray along with a spoon. I carefully made my way upstairs and to his door. As I tried to steady my breathing and calm my shaking hands the door opened. “Oh shit y/n/n, I didn’t see you there,” Tito laughed moving over to the side and opening the door wider for me to come in. I slowly made my way into the room. I hadn’t seen the inside of Mat’s room since Li and I were like 17 sneaking out of his window because it was easier than using hers.
My eyes landed on the bed and then on Mat. His nose was bruised but the bleeding had stopped. He lay there in bed black compression shirt on under the covers. “Your mom asked me to bring you this,” I say quietly putting the tray on the bedside table and turning to walk out of the room. He reaches out and grabs my hand pulling me backwards and to him. “I’m gonna go see if Mama B needs any help,” Tito says excusing himself. Mat laughed,” Real subtle buddy.” My eyes drift down toward our connected hands. “Will you sit please,” he asked his voice shaking.
“Are you okay,” I ask sitting near the edge of the bed never once pulling my hand from his. “Physically yeah. My nose isn’t broken or anything just bruised up pretty good. Mentally not so much,” he sighs looking down at our hands, his thumb rubbing circles on mine. “Why aren’t you okay mentally,” I ask finding his eyes with my own. “Because I am an idiot. All of these years I never noticed. The one thing I was trying to find was here the whole time,” his voice wavers and he pulls his bottom lip in between his teeth, a nervous habit he and his sister share.
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” I say breaking eye contact and letting my eyes drift around the room until they land on a small picture frame on his dresser. It was of the two of us and Liana after his draft. “You wanna know why I kept that one,” he asked. I turn to look at him and nod. “Because no matter how hard I tried to hate the picture I couldn’t, because you were in it. You with that beautiful smile and those sweet eyes looking at me. I had the biggest crush on you growing up. I guess I just always hoped you felt the same way,” he said his brown eyes scanning my face for any kind of discomfort. “What,” I whisper wondering if I had heard him right.
“You have always been in my life, not always by my choice but you were there. Every good or bad memory you were there. And when I moved out and to the city I didn’t see you as much. So I got upset thinking you were only ever there because of Lia. I don’t know what I was thinking honestly. So whenever you came with them to visit or I came home I was an ass to you because I hurt my own feelings thinking something more.” After his long speech, I couldn’t help but lean forward and capture his lips with mine. It was a sweet short kiss and then when I pulled back he rushed forward grabbing my cheeks and bringing me back into him. I shifted forward and went to run my hands through his hair when he hissed and pulled away in pain.
“Oh my god Mat I am so sorry. I completely forgot about your nose,” I rush out grabbing his face and moving it all different angles to see if I caused any further damage. “So worth it,” he smiled leaning forward and connecting our lips again.
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Having thoughts about the League of Assassins. It’s pretty common among them to form hierchy/ranking around who’s a better fighter and who beat/killed who. I can’t remember if it’s canon but I like the idea that to prove your teacher has taught you all they have to teach you must kill them (not sure how that applies to history/math/whatever but. Moving on.) Working off of that idea, a lot of assassins in the organisation would already respect Tim for causing the death/defeat of the Council of Spiders; assassins that are so skilled they kill other assassins for fun. Him then TRICKING RA’S AL GHUL AND BLOWING UP (almost??) ALL OF HIS BASES, AND THEN OUTSMARTING HIM AGAIN WHEN HE TRIES TO DESTROY EVERYTHING BATMAN HAS BUILT, I feel like it’s reasonable to assume a lot of them would’ve decided Tim is the bigger threat or at least proved himself very formidable and a large threat. I imagine a lot of them would’ve sought him out in Gotham and pledged loyalty to him (kind of like Minions seeking out the evilest leader thanks for that thought brain), maybe doing full on traditional rituals to prove the transferring of their loyalty, like blood oaths or ritual spars idk, maybe giving him gifts or displaying their skills so he accepts them as allies rather than being disrespected and killing or maiming them since that’s the standard they expect in the League.
And Tim is uh. Very confused. Very surprised. And also trying hard not to show it. He accepts all the gifts and pledges and shit, because he sure as fuck ain’t gonna turn them back to Ra’s, but after that he doesn’t really know what to do with them. He hires a bunch of them at Wayne Enterprise and Drake Industries, tasks a bunch of them with working for Red Hood on the down low, maybe sends a couple on undercover missions to Arkham Asylum so they start treating inmates as actual human beings and stop using shock therapy or something, and makes sure to write them all up fair contracts and great pay with good work bonuses and plenty of leave, and makes sure most or all of them start going to therapy. The assassins love their new leader and would do practically anything for him.
But anyway, all that aside. I’ve had those thoughts in my head for more than a month. Something that just recently occurred to me is Mara al Ghul. Damian’s cousin. Another child raised by the League of Assassins, only this one never left.
Until, that is, she watches this freshly-immunocompromised vigilante arguably outsmart her grandfather twice, and decides he is the bigger threat, actually, I want to be on his good side when he takes over the world.
So now Tim is being forced into basically adopting this feral child, who’s only experience in American society was undercover missions to kill people, who thinks decapitated heads are reasonable gifts, who’s introduction to Tim was something batshit inside like dumping the Joker’s head in his lap because the Joker is Gotham’s most dangerous rogue and of course Tim will appreciate having him gone. But even with a well crafted facade she can tell Tim is unnerved and horrified, so she must be doing something wrong. Maybe it was because the Joker is Batman’s enemy and not Tim’s specifically? But Tim doesn’t have any arch nemesis aside from maybe Ra’s who she obviously can’t kill, so she does more research into Tim’s life and background and finds out Captain Boomerang killed his father so next she brings Tim HIS head and she can already tell he’s much more pleased this time. But there’s still that edge of unsettlement and wariness, and he’s acting so strange around her, so she digs deeper and finds out about the Titans Tower incident but Tim sent all these other assassins to work for red hood so they must be on good terms, and then she finds out about all the bad blood between him and Damian and Dick so she starts trying to kill them next, starting with Damian obviously (a mix of jealousy over him leaving the league and a good amount of cousin rivalry/cain instinct), but Tim stops the fight and tells her to stand down and now she’s scared that he’s going to punish her and Ra’s’ punishments were always so harsh and perhaps this time she can’t quite fight down the urge to hide.
Meanwhile, Tim is being dragged through a parent arc kicking and screaming, the bats are wondering why the hell there are suddenly so many assassins only after they scare off Ra’s, Jason is more or less vibing because he thinks the assassins are from Talia and the Joker’s dead so of course he’s ecstatic (even tho he wishes he knew who did it so he can thank them), Dick and Damian are still reeling from learning Bruce is alive/getting him back from the time stream when all of a sudden this masked child comes out of nowhere mid patrol and attacks Damian, and isn’t backing down even though Dick arrived quickly but when Red Robin arrives and yells stop she’s already three rooftops away by the time he’s done speaking. Everyone is tired and doesn’t know what the hell is going on except mayybe Oracle.
#disclaimer I have never read a comic with mara in it in my life so I apologise if this is horrendously ooc#mara al ghul#tim drake#league of assassins#red robin#damian wayne#ra’s al ghul#Batman#rewritten speaks#fandom thoughts#dc thoughts#fic ideas#batman thoughts#blackbird fly
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Time Of Our Lives || Part 8
Part 8:
Art woke up with his head in her neck and a hand on her chest, starting to think that maybe this is how he would always wake up if she were next to him. He managed to detach himself without waking Liana and took advantage of these minutes to look at her a bit.
His head ached from all the alcohol, and for a moment he wondered if everything that happened last night had really happened. But she was wearing his shirt and sleeping in his bed, so apparently, it had. This made him smile and get out of bed.
He put on a pair of sweatpants and went downstairs to the kitchen. He made two cups of coffee and put a box of painkillers in his pocket.
"Good morning," he heard his mother and smiled automatically.
"Hey, Mom," he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.
"How was your evening?" she asked, and he updated her that it was okay, without giving too many explanations. While she was moving towards the living room, turning her back to him, she said, "Tell Liana she's welcome to come down for breakfast."
Art stopped, feeling himself blush and realizing that she had heard them last night. Him and Liana. Liana, whom she had known since the day she was born. Liana, the daughter of her best friend. His mother had heard her moaning in her son's bed.
"What..." he mumbled, not knowing what to do.
"The coffee, it's for Liana, right?" His mother turned back to him, amused by the whole situation. "Oh, relax, Art, it was just a matter of time, and Liana is always welcome to eat with us. Don't chase her out the back door," she winked at him and concluded the conversation.
His heart was beating so fast he didn't know what to do. She would surely tell Liana's parents, and then Liana would never let him touch her again out of embarrassment. He placed the cups on the counter and followed her into the living room.
"You can't tell Sarah," he stated. He was terrified at the thought of their parents sitting one evening and just talking about his and Liana's sex life as if it were a legitimate dinner table conversation.
"Art, what I do or do not tell Sarah, my best friend, the woman who also raised you when you think about it, is my business," she was still speaking with complete nonchalance.
"Mom, I'm begging you. Don't tell her. Does Dad know too? Do I need to ask him as well?" he tried to understand how deep the damage control he needed to do was.
"You weren't exactly quiet when you broke the vase Grandma gave us last Christmas," his mom looked at him with a sharp look. Art tried to understand what she was talking about and vaguely remembered how they had come in, and he had bumped into something, causing both him and Liana to choke with laughter.
"Shit. God. I'll buy you a new vase. I promise." He smiled a toothy smile. One that was his mother's weak spot. "Mom, please. Don't tell them." He saw on her face that she was about to relent. "It's very new, and we're still trying to figure out what we're doing," Art told her and sighed.
"How new?" she asked, surprised. What she and her husband heard last night (unfortunately for them) did not sound like the beginning of something.
"Very. I'm pretty sure it's new from yesterday..." his hand went over his neck for a second. He was nervous. "I can't have our parents talking about this before we've talked about it. Please, Mom, just pretend you didn't hear anything." He pleaded, and the woman in front of him nodded.
"Okay," she rolled her eyes, and he gave her a kiss on the cheek. She saw her son stand up with a smile and head toward the kitchen. "Art," she made him turn around, "don't hurt her, okay?" she said, looking at him sharply.
"Of course not, it's Liana." He had no choice but to nod. He didn't think there was a scenario where he was the one hurting Liana and not the other way around.
Liana woke up in an empty room, taking a second to remember that this was Art Donaldson's room.
Her heart beat uncontrollably fast as she recalled all the things she did last night with Art. Annoying Art who used to wipe snot on her when they were four. Art who would change the channel every time she wanted to watch 'The Lion King' at five. Art who, if she closed her eyes, she would see woven into every significant memory she had of this life.
She got up slowly, adjusting to the slight dizziness that hit her, and walked to the bathroom, brushing her teeth with the spare brush she found there yesterday and washing her face.
What if he didn't want to talk about it? What if he decided there was nothing to talk about? What if it was all in her head? She heard the door to the room open and saw him come in with two cups of what she could imagine were coffee.
"My hero," she blurted and snatched one of them from his hand, causing him to chuckle while she blushed from her own choice of words.
Art took a sip while examining her. She was still wearing his shirt, and her hair was messy. She did everything to avoid looking at him.
"Can we talk about it?" he realized he needed to take matters into his own hands because if he relied on the verbal abilities of the girl in front of him, they would talk about it at ninety when they would be in a retirement home.
"Do you want to?" she asked, passing a neurotic hand over her nose. It was her tick when she was nervous. She had a few. The twitching leg and the hand on the nose betrayed her the quickest.
"Li, can we be mature about this? Please?" he sighed and sat next to her on the edge of the bed. He hated that he had to beg. She took another sip of the coffee, looked at him, and nodded.
"It was fun, right?" she asked hesitantly, again looking forward instead of at him.
"It could be more fun if you manage to look me in the eyes for more than five seconds..." he tried to sound calm and amused, but this new situation was strange for him too. He didn't expect this. He didn't expect to look at Liana in a sexual way. He didn't expect his good luck charm from the moment he started playing tennis to be simultaneously the best blowjob he had ever had. It could confuse anyone, but him probably especially.
"I can look at you for more than five seconds..." she rolled her eyes and brought her gaze back to him, not moving but blushing. This made him chuckle in frustration.
"We're a bit stupid, aren't we?" he said, and she laughed too.
"It wasn't a mistake, right?" she asked, feeling a bit more comfortable.
"It was everything but a mistake, Li." He stated. "We can just take it slow and try to figure out what's going on? Stay us and add new things to it..." he suggested.
"Art, what about Tashi?" she asked suddenly, causing him to raise an eyebrow.
"What about her?" he returned the question, a little confused by the new direction of the conversation.
"You talk about her all day, you definitely want to be with her," she seemed frustrated.
"I don't want to be with Tashi," he felt the need to defend himself, not understanding how instead of talking about how great their night was, they were talking about Tashi Duncan. "She's also with Patrick. I'm not in love with her or anything." He spoke faster than usual, afraid that the opportunity he had now with Liana would slip through his fingers because of something hypothetical that wouldn't happen with Tashi anyway.
"I didn't say you were in love with her..." she sighed, and again her hand was on her nose for a second. In her opinion, Art had given himself away.
Art placed the cup he was holding on the floor and turned his whole body towards her, examining her closely.
He was almost sure he would never get used to Liana wearing his clothes. He would never get used to seeing the marks he left on her neck, silently screaming that she was his. Completely his.
"Li, I won't force you, but I think you want this too." He tried a new direction. Feeling he had to steer the conversation away from Tashi. Of course, he wanted Tashi; every man with eyes wanted Tashi.
But he knows for sure that what happened last night with Liana would be the only thing he could think about until the next time he heard her moan his name.
"You can't know that," she said in a childish voice and crossed her arms under her chest, causing him to chuckle.
"You're such a brat, God," he chuckled again, because he knew she was just being stubborn. Just by looking at her at that moment, with the flushed cheeks, he knew he had won this argument.
"No, I'm not. I'm a person who knows what they want." She stood up, taking a few steps to move away from him. Liana felt she had to think deeply about this.
Every warning light she had was flashing. This is Art Donaldson. You can't give your all to Art Donaldson. He will crush you. She knew. He stood up with her, every step she took backward hesitantly, he took forward confidently until they reached a dead-end; his closet. She lifted her gaze and met his blue eyes, looking at her as if she held the moon in her hands.
"What do you want?" he asked in a whisper, not taking his eyes off her for a second. Almost managing to see the shiver she felt when he spoke so close to her. "I can help you understand. It's Us. It’s just you and me." He spoke near her ear, and she closed her eyes, trying to gather her thoughts. One of his fingers gently brushed her neck, over the marks he had left, causing her to sigh.
"Just say it. You're a big girl, you can say what you want." By this point, both of them were breathing heavily, and she opened her eyes, seeing his darken with a spark of something she couldn't identify.
"Art..." she whispered, unable to find the words. He was so beautiful. How had she not noticed over the years how beautiful Art Donaldson was?
"I'm not going to say it for you." His voice was steady, demanding. Not hesitant. "Use your words." His nose touched hers, and her chest brushed against his with every breath she took. "The moment you say what you want, you'll get it." His breaths were heavy too. It almost felt like the fate of their lives depended on this moment.
"I want it. I want you." Her voice was weak; she couldn't swallow or breathe.
"Good girl." He responded, and saw how her expression changed. The moment he said that, it was like a switch, she pressed her lips to his, almost angrily, upset that he had made her so desperate. Upset that he knew exactly how to lead her where he wanted. Upset that his hand was still not under her shirt, even though all she wanted right now was his touch. He completely controlled her ability to function independently right now. Just knowing she was good for him.
They pulled away from each other, breathing heavily. Art's smile was genuine but also mischievous. They both knew he had won.
He simply knew it was a tie, and that she could crush him with one wrong word.
"So, we'll take it slow." He said, and she chuckled.
"Yeah, huh? Slow seems to be our strength." She rolled her eyes and laughed too, concluding they would be fine.
"I need to go home, my parents think I'm at Rebecca's..." she said while they lay in bed, not exchanging many words. His hand was around her, and her head was on his shoulder, still trying to catch their breath from the emotional turmoil of the past two days.
"Your parents know you're here," he chuckled, remembering the conversation with his mom earlier.
Liana looked at him and sat up quickly. Her hand scratched her nose for a moment, and her eyebrows furrowed.
"What do you mean???" Her voice raised an octave, and her cheeks flushed red.
"My parents heard us. We weren't exactly quiet." He sounded amused, but to his defense, he had at least an hour more than her to get used to the idea.
"What are you talking about? Why are you laughing, Art?! This is so embarrassing!!!" Her hands were on her face, trying to hide the level of embarrassment. He gently removed them, and she looked at him with the most frustrated look she had ever given him.
He couldn't believe there were still so many of Liana's facial expressions he didn't know.
"Mom lied to me earlier that she wouldn’t tell Sarah, but-" he started, trying to explain how he knew.
"As if they can keep anything from each other. Ugh. So embarrassing, Art."
"She also said they knew this would happen," he tried to comfort her, to explain that maybe it wasn't so bad that they knew. That now they didn't have to explain themselves.
"So fucking embarrassing." She repeated.
"Patrick is coming tomorrow, remember?" He suddenly asked after a few more minutes of silence.
"Oh my God, Patrick. We can't tell Patrick." She mumbled, half to Art, half to herself.
"What?" He looked confused by her sudden change in behavior. She seemed to freeze next to him. He watched her get out of bed and start pacing back and forth.
"We can't tell him, Art. Promise me." She stopped and looked at him.
"Why?" He felt his stomach turning. Why didn't she want Patrick to know? Patrick, whom Art knew was in love with her. Patrick, who talked to her for hours on the phone. Patrick, whom Art introduced to her.
"Because everything is already complicated in his life, and I don't want to add something else that will make him feel weird," she tried to explain herself but couldn't.
Liana's heart was racing. The thought of Patrick knowing she and Art were trying things and exploring each other's bodies made her uncomfortable.
"Why would knowing that you and I are together make him feel weird?" His heart was pounding. He understood; She knew. She would never admit it, but deep down, Liana knew Patrick was in love with her.
"Because everything is changing for him, and he already feels like we're all leaving him. Art. Please. Let's figure out where this is going first and only then tell him. Promise me." She landed on the floor by the bed.
"Please, Art, he and I are already in a weird place right now." She added, lowering her head.
"Why are you in a weird place?" He knew something was wrong in their relationship. He just didn't want to ask either of them. To be honest, the fact that Liana and Patrick barely talked in the past month didn't bother Art at all.
When Patrick would casually ask him on the phone how Liana was (as if he were asking about the weather), Art would say everything was fine with her and that he saw her a lot, even though he barely saw her at all, and that would be the end of the conversation about Liana.
"Because I was stressed about my exams and mad about something he said to me. It doesn't matter, I'll apologize when he comes," she shrugged and didn't look at him anymore.
"Did you choose a major?" He asked suddenly, and she leaned back on the floor and sighed.
"Yes. We'll see where it goes when the grades come… I applied to both Architecture and Business." She shrugged.
"Damn, no wonder you were so stressed. Why did you do that???" He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Why would anyone apply to both?
"Long story, and I don't feel like dealing with it right now." She sighed.
How was she supposed to tell him now that if she got into Architecture like she wanted, she would probably leave Stanford for a while?
During Christmas dinner, with the small Hanukkah menorah in the window, Patrick, Liana, and Art snuck outside and sat on the grass, passing around a bottle of champagne they managed to sneak with them.
"Finally, some peace," Liana said and giggled. Art's hand automatically found its way to her leg, making gentle movements.
Patrick didn't miss it.
He remembered the conversation with Tashi. Conversation. Whatever it was with Tashi. If he could, Art would bend her over the table. Show her who she belonged to. Those words were burned into his mind. Could it be they were really fucking? No way. Liana would tell him. Art would tell him.
"So, what's new with you guys? Tell me about life at Stanford. Are you already the greatest tennis player in America?" He asked.
"She doesn't come to my practices, so I can't be the greatest in America," Art joked, and Liana rolled her eyes and stood up.
"I'm going to the bathroom. Don't encourage him too much," she started to walk away.
"You're not going to tell me?" Patrick asked, and Art just looked at him, raising an eyebrow while half-smiling. "I'm not stupid, Art, what's going on?" His heart was beating faster than expected.
"You know…" Art shrugged, and his smile widened.
But it wasn't an innocent or a sincere smile. It was his victory smile. A territorial smile. One that couldn't resist saying the last word.
Patrick was angry.
He tried to breathe, but he felt his stomach clenching. How, while he was trying to be the person Liana needed, did Art get Liana?
Art, who wasn't even trying. Art, who for most of his life didn't know what he had right under his nose.
"What will you do when she leaves?" He heard himself say, and Art looked at him in confusion.
"Come on, Art, you know she'll pass that test and get accepted, right?" He realized with every word he spoke that Art had no idea. He didn't know Liana was planning a year outside of America.
"What are you talking about?" Art asked with visible panic in his voice.
Patrick tried, but he couldn't stop his smile.
Art thought he had won.
Art was wrong.
Hey, it's a long chapter, and I'd like to hear your thoughts as always. I hope you enjoy it even tho I understand that the pace is slow. I just hate rushing things for the sake of something interesting happening. You know what I mean?
Next part we'll have more of Patrick, don't worry. pls pls pls keep sending me your opinions in the comments and in the ask box. It makes my day. As usual, if you want to be on the tag list, just ask 💜
taglist:
@imbabycowboy @do-it-for-kicks @izzywags478 @4deline08 @swetearss @ganana @yoitsme-04 @igotmajordaddyissues @jackierose902109 @izzywags478
#art donaldson x reader#patrick zweig x reader#art donaldson#patrick zweig#challengers fic#challengers#tashi duncan#art donaldson smut
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threw this little blurb together based on a conversation with @curlytemple about the possibility that Benson meant to kill everyone at Burgersx3 including himself and uh......read at your own fucking risk, man.
tw graphic depiction of homicide, suicide, and animal death. reference to past child abuse. dead dove, do not eat.
in his dreams, they all die.
it plays out pretty much the same at first. he hits Chris in the gut, again, on purpose, again. he can still hear his old man saying "a gut shot's a helluva way to go, kid." sometimes, in the dream, he pulls the trigger again for the mercy kill. sometimes he doesn't.
Hardy's faster in his mind. makes it a little closer to the phone every time, but he gets him. he always gets him, and he always takes half the office down with him, papers and cups and pens and shit all over the floor.
it's funny, when it happened for real, he didn't hear Jess screaming until he was looking right at her, and then it was all he could fucking hear, all he could fucking think about, and she wouldn't fucking stop, and he tried to get her to stop, but what're you gonna do? what's he supposed to do? it's the same in the dream. she isn't screaming until he turns around and then she is and she always was.
he never sees it hit her. the camera of his mind always shifts angles. there's probably something to that but he can't think what and he doesn't really care. all he knows is, the sound her body makes when it hits the ground makes him think of when Ma would sit up late at the table and he'd know it meant the fucker was back in town, and he'd excuse himself to his room and out the window for the evening. easier for everyone that way.
that's all pretty much standard. it's the next part that's weird.
he feels the gun in his hand, hears the break and the hollow plastic clatter of spent shells on the linoleum. he just fucking mopped. he reaches in his pocket for the last two rounds.
once, he looked down and saw something written on one of them in permanent marker or some shit. a B or an R or something. but everybody knows you can't read in dreams, and it only happened the once as far as he can remember.
he walks slow, real slow, dream slow, around the tables until he's facing him head-on. and he's high-def every time. wet cheeks, trembling lips, and those fucking eyes, blue in a way that can't be real. lashes long like a girl's. looking at him with the blind fear of a baby animal too fresh-born to understand but with enough sense to know it's fucking over. enough instinct screaming in the blood to stay still, stay still, don't breathe, stay still.
stay still and let it happen.
stay still until it's over.
don't breathe or you'll never get the fucking smell out of your nostrils.
he tastes bile in his mouth when he pulls the trigger.
he never runs. never even tries. he hits him in the chest, dead center, every time. and he crumples like a beer can under a boot. goes to the ground with this soft, feathery gasp that echoes in his brain. it makes him sick.
he steps forward, stands over him. it takes him way too long to die, way too fucking long. the mess of his chest is seven shades of red. sometimes he can see his heartbeat in the swell and collapse of gore, and that's how he knows he's dreaming. because no man on earth takes a blast of buckshot to the ticker and keeps ticking.
it reminds of the time he hit a rabbit doing 95 on the canal road, vision so blurred he could barely see past the hood of the car. how he slammed on the brakes, skidded to the shoulder, and through the cloud of dust he watched the thing heave and die in the scarlet of his taillights, and he gripped the wheel so hard his fingers hurt the next day and sobbed until his voice went hoarse.
he never cries, in the dreams. never feels regret. never feels much of anything.
he stands and waits. watches the blood bubble helplessly on his lips, the tears coming down in sheets from those eyes. those fucking eyes. looking back at him glazed-over and heavy with an apology. more remorse in those eyes than he's ever felt for anything in his life. and it hollows him out. cleans him right out like a carcass strung up in the yard. empty in the ribs. blood all over the ground.
some of it oughta be his, right?
so he flips the gun, and from the floor he watches him do it, and the funny thing about dreams is that he sees it from both angles at the same time, from his own perspective and from the ground looking up with the light growing cold and faint around the edges.
he nestles the muzzle snug under his chin, back against his throat. you gotta aim it right or you'll miss the brain, blow off your face, and then you'll really wish you were dead. good thing he can see it from both angles. make sure he gets it right the first time.
he's not scared, before he pulls the trigger. for one goddamn glorious moment, he's not scared of anything.
it all goes red when the gun goes off, the red of taillights in the dark, and he never wakes up with the bang. no, he wakes up one...two...three seconds after with every muscle clenched and his tongue clamped between his teeth. and he stares up into the black and waits for it to come back to him. how it really happened. where he is. who he is.
what he's done and what he hasn't.
it's only once he's sure of things that he seeks him out, sends a hand roving through the sheets until it meets the angle of a hip or an elbow. sometimes that's enough. sometimes he won't allow himself more.
sometimes he will. sometimes he needs to. sometimes he rolls to the side and pulls him in under his arm like a teddy bear, shoves his face into the bone of his shoulder and pretends to sleep until the sun comes up.
either way, he spends the rest of the night trying to forget. trying to forget the sound, the screams of a girl or a boy or a rabbit. the smell of blood and gunpowder. the heat of steel against his throat.
the feeling of feeling nothing, nothing at all, when he looks into those eyes, blue in a way that can't be real.
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La Llorona (3.2k)
read below or on ao3 • [tw: attempted drowning]
“It was true that he didn’t remember when he learned to swim, but he did remember his mother teaching him. That was a big part of why he was quickly getting tired of the topic matter at hand.”
“I don’t really remember when I learned how to swim,” Adrien shrugged, chin resting on his right hand as he passed the few remaining minutes of class conversing with his friends. Alya’s face turned down into a playful frown at his response, clearly unsatisfied with such a weak answer. Marinette watched the conversation in amusement while mindlessly chewing on a pencil—one already covered in teeth marks. They had all already told their own stories: Nino had been a natural swimmer, Marinette had to take a few years of swimming lessons, and Alya had told some kind of story about almost drowning at a water park with her older sister. Adrien hadn’t been able to follow that one very well.
“You can’t even remember bits and pieces?” she prompted. He felt like he was in some weird interview.
“Maybe you were just born knowing how to do everything, huh?” Nino teased from beside him before poking him with an elbow. He had started the conversation in the first place by mentioning how his little brother Chris had just started swimming lessons. Apparently, Chris was not enjoying them.
Adrien shrugged again, not entirely wanting to try and muster up bygone memories. “Oh, I don’t know, I must have learned at the hotel's pool with Chloe,” he awkwardly explained, trying to string together a story his friends would believe. When he really tried to remember, all he could see was fragmented pictures of his maman in her swimsuit, arms outstretched in a shallow pool that lapped around her waist. He could smell, slightly taste, the chlorine. It was true that he didn’t remember when he learned to swim, but he did remember his mother teaching him. That was a big part of why he was quickly getting tired of the topic matter at hand.
“Ugh, understood. If I had grown up being best friends with that girl I would also try to forget it,” Nino joked, making Alya and Marinette laugh. Adrien copied the sound—he had given up trying to justify Chloe’s place in his life, and even he wasn’t entirely sure she belonged there anymore—but the laugh he let out wasn’t nearly convincing enough.
Three pairs of eyes were immediately on him, stunning him into silence. It was like he had failed some invisible test.
The quiet held for a second too long before they started blurting apologies.
“Shit, dude, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said that, I know Chloe’s your friend and—”
“Yeah we didn’t mean to laugh, Adrien, we weren’t thinking.”
Marinette opened her mouth to begin her explanation when Adrien anxiously shut them down. “Guys, guys, it’s okay! I know you guys don’t like Chloe, but I also know you guys respect our friendship. It’s fine, really,” he assured them, squeezing Ninos shoulder comfortingly as he talked. “Anyways—,” he was desperate to get the attention off him “Why is Chris hating swim lessons?”
Nino laughed and began flapping his hands excitedly in the air, the previous tension quickly forgotten. “You’re never going to believe this, he’s scared of ‘La Llorona’.”
“‘The crying woman’? Isn’t she some kind of, like, Mexican folklore story to scare little kids?” Alya questioned, leaning towards her boyfriend enthusiastically.
“That’s exactly what I said! I was like ‘Chris, bro, we live in Paris. She’s all the way in Mexico, busy doing ghost things, no way she’s going to get you.’ But he’s convinced she’s out to find him! I don’t even know where he learned about it,” Nino recounted, laughing as he went. Maybe it was kinda childish to be scared of a ghost in a distant country; but in Chris’s defense, Adrien also felt uneasy about ghosts.
The idea of being haunted made his skin crawl.
“I’ve never heard of her. What’s the folklore?” he asked curiously, interest piqued.
“It’s actually kind of a gruesome story,” Marinette spoke up, but quickly looked like she regretted it as eyes turned to her. She looked down at her hands and fidgeted with the chewed pencil as she continued. “There’s a lot of different versions, but the most common one is a woman fell in love with a wealthy man, had his children, caught him cheating, and drowned their kids out of rage. Then she regretted it and drowned herself out of guilt, leaving her weeping ghost to haunt rivers and streams, crying out for her children. It’s usually used to keep kids away from bodies of water, especially at night. Supposedly if you hear her sobs, she’ll find you, then drown you when she realizes you aren’t her child.” Marinette shivered with the final sentence, clearly recalling something. She combed her fingers through a pigtail and let out a tense giggle. “My grandma goes on trips all over the world. She went to Mexico when I was in kindergarten, then decided to tell me that story when she got back. I was scared of the seine for months, so I can’t really blame Chris.”
“Your parents must have been mad.” Alya smirked.
“My mom definitely was! She was convinced I would never get over it, and I’d have a fear of water all my life. I forgot about it when summer came around and I got to go to the pool.” The girls were talking now, carried away with their own conversation.
Adrien didn’t mind. He was busy mulling over the new story.
“—rien? Adrien!” Nino shook him hard, eyeing him up and down like his friend had done something suspicious. It felt almost invasive, and made Adrien squirm in his seat. “Dude, you’re out of it. What are you thinking about?”
He stopped, and thought for a moment. Then the words got the better of him and before he could stop it the question spilled out. “Do you think she loved them?” Adrien asked, eyes locked with Nino’s.
“Who? The—La Llorona? I mean, I guess she loved her kids. All parents do, right?”
“No, I mean—I mean do you think she did it because she loved them?”
Adrien’s attention turned to the phone in his hand, a notification lighting up his lockscreen. It usually rotated through different pictures he had picked out, but right now it was settled on one of him and his mother. “Do you think she drowned them because she loved them, maybe just too much?”
Before Nino could respond, the bell rang out. Class was over, Adrien needed to go home, and Nino had to take Chris to his swim lesson.
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Maman looked so pretty in the pool. The way her hair shined in the sun, and the corners of her mouth wrinkled when she smiled. The clear, bright blue water that stopped at her knees. The thin silver band on her left ring finger reflected the sun brightly, as did the silver feather earrings dangling from her ears. She always wore jewelry. Her green eyes reminded him of the grass that grew beside water in the books she’d read him. It made him happy to have the same green eyes.
Adrien was four years old, right at the age where he was blathering out any words he could, and consciously exploring all the different sensations that came with being alive. But today he had a swimming lesson, which meant listening to his mother.
Emilie stood, merely a foot away on the second step, cooing and trying to coax her living ball of sunshine to dip a foot in the pool. “Adrien, darling, I promise the pool won’t hurt you,” she assured, leaning over and slipping a few fingers into his palm to grasp. He did so tightly, then slowly stepped down onto the first step into the pool. It was cool, almost ticklish, against his skin and thankfully only rose to his shins at this height.
“See!” she smiled, almost purring the words. She pulled her fingers from his grasp, lowered to the bottom step, and splashed the summer water towards her little student. He giggled and shielded his face, though the splash only reached his stomach. “Next step, now.”
Adrien’s laugh caught in his throat. The next step was deep, too deep, but… she was standing right there, lip-glossed smile beaming at him.
She wouldn’t make him go too deep. Maman was safe.
He stepped forward cautiously, missing the tight grip he had on her hand just before, and slowly found his footing. The water now pooled just above his hips, the sloshing waves from their movement gently pulling him this way and that. His arms hovered above the water's surface at his sides, refusing to fall victim to the pool just yet.
“You’re a natural, little minnow!” Emilie cheered, then sucked in her cheeks and pursed her lips to make a kissy face, trying to imitate a fish. Only she looked more like she had bitten into a much too sour lemon, which made Adrien laugh again, even harder this time. His arms dropped slightly and an elbow dipped into the water, making him squeal suddenly.
“It’s cold, Maman!” he whimpered, wanting to retreat back to the shaded table where their towels and pool supplies resided while they swam. Adrien’s gaze was locked over his shoulder on the dry, warm spot a few feet away when Emilie snapped her fingers to get his attention again.
It worked immediately.
“Darling, it’s the perfect temperature. Don’t let the water scare you,” she comforted him, reaching out again to offer a hand to hold. Adrien’s smaller hand took it urgently. “Last step.”
If the previous step had come anywhere close to scary, the last step was utterly daunting. Plunging one foot further into the depths of the water, the surface rose up to his chin. When he tried to lift his other foot it felt rooted to the concrete stair that held him above the water, and he couldn’t find the strength to rip off the bandaid. Thankfully, Emilie had strength to spare for her minnow, and using her free hand she hooked two fingers around his ankle, then sternly pulled it to the final step.
“Ah-ah-ah,” she cooed in her sing-songy voice, hands receding from the young boys’ space again before pushing at the bottom of his chin. His mouth opened to protest but she tilted his head back, letting his golden hair fall and soak up the chlorine-rich water..
Now the water lapped at the edges of his face as he stood, tiptoed, and tilted back. He looked up towards the sky, closing his eyes to block out the harsh sun, and urgently trying not to panic over the water sloshing in his ears. His arms floated in the water at his sides, and he was too aware of the open space where nothing could be grabbed onto. Adrien could hardly hear Emilie, if she was singing her praises at all, but if it was because of his submerged ears or his racing heart he couldn’t tell. After a few seconds—a few too many for small Adrien—she plucked him from the step and placed him on her hip, giving him a moment to rub the water from his hair and ears.
“Wonderful, mon bébé!” She was laughing as she whirled him through the pool, hands tucked under his armpits as they spun in excited circles. “Was that so bad?”
Adrien waited until they stilled to respond. “My ears went under the water,” he muttered, trying to balance in her grasp and holding onto her shoulders. “My eyes were closed, too. I was scared.”
Emilie pouted, maybe trying to give him a sympathetic frown, but it only made him feel smaller. It was the kind of look that a passersby gave a baby throwing a tantrum. “You’re okay,” she assured gently, holding him against her chest and lifting a hand from the water to push a wet strand of golden hair from his forehead. He leaned into the touch of her palm. “When you’re with Maman or Père, you’re always okay.” Their eyes locked and Emilie’s smile dropped. Her left thumb slowly grazed over her ring when she continued. “You know that, right, little minnow?”
The words spilled out before he even knew what he was going to say. “Yes, Maman.”
Yes, he was okay so long as Maman and Papa were there. Mother and Father would always keep him safe.
“Wonderful, darling. Now, let’s try doggy paddling.”
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It had been a grueling hour in the pool, consisting mainly of Adrien clinging either to his mother’s shoulders or the wall of the pool. The doggy paddling had been too scary, treading water was too exhausting, and floating on his back was too overwhelming.
Worst of all, Emilie was starting to get angry. She had even screamed at him when he tried clambering out of the pool.
Adrien hated making Maman angry. Her eyebrows would twitch when she furrowed them together, and she often brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose in frustration. It made him feel stupid, and wrong, like he had broken some rule. Sometimes—though Adrien wouldn’t admit it for many years to come—it made him angry too. Angry enough to want to rip piano keys out of their places. Angry enough to want to destroy things with a single touch.
Angry enough to try and climb out of the pool during a swimming lesson. Which was, of course, unacceptable.
“Honestly, Adrien, you’re behaving like a brat! Are you stupid?” She snapped, top lip pulled back in a snarl, letting her canines shine in the sun. Adrien could feel them closing in on him. Even at her worst, he only wanted her to hold him close. It never really mattered if he was alive or dead when she did it—he just wished she wouldn’t yell.
“I’m scared, M-Maman!” He hiccuped, clinging desperately to the roughly textured wall. It stung the pruning skin of his fingers, threatening to cut his raw fingertips. Adrien didn't notice over his own sobs and wracked breathing.
“Stop crying already!” Emilie lunged forward to rip her son from the wall, ignoring his wails of refusal. He urgently grabbed for the wall as she carried him towards the middle of the water, muttering under her breath. The only things Adrien could pick up was ‘useless fucking kid’ and ‘made you to be better than this’.
The words didn’t fully register in his panic-stricken brain. The only thing he knew for certain was real in that moment was the steady stream of warm tears pouring from his eyes. Until Maman reached out, palm cupping his tear stained cheek, and gently wiped at the droplets clinging to his eyelashes. Adrien’s eyes opened and took her in, eyes half-lidded and eyebrows pressed together. She was as comforting as she was terrifying, which was an intense combination of emotions for four year old Adrien.
“Don’t make me repeat myself again. There’s nothing to be scared of,” she said intensely.
It made the tears stop and hiccups pause—it even took some of his breath away. Adrien’s mother was like a being of pure emotion, raw and untethered, changing at the snap of her fingers. Emilie could play people like a violin, and this was her philosophy when it came to maternal matters.
“Nothing to be scared of,” he whispered in repetition, eyes still glued to hers. His muscles relaxed, and he softened into his mothers hold. Truthfully, Adrien always thought it was much more comfortable once he stopped fighting.
Emilie smiled and nodded, then turned to look at the empty pool around them. Her hair was still radiant in the sun, but now the ends had gotten soggy and knotted as they dipped in and out of the water.
“M-Maman, can we stop now?” Adrien asked softly, unable to stop the trembling pout his lips formed. “Please?”
She blinked. Swallowed, then clicked her tongue against her teeth. It was a nauseating sound. “Only if you can swim, little minnow.” His body froze when her eyes targeted back onto him, his stomach turning when he saw her gaping smile. “Show me how you swim.”
In the blink of an eye, Adrien was forced under the surface, water overtaking his mouth and nose before he even thought to close or cover them. It stung, like a wasp had crawled through his throat and made a nest in his lungs, infesting him from the inside out. He gasped for air, desperate to cool the burning taking hold of his chest, but only inhaled water.
He was screaming, crying, violently thrashing in the water as he tried to breach the surface. The sounds only left his mouth in muted air bubbles, floating past his vision to the surface his body screamed for. But it was useless against the tightly gripped hand around his throat.
Maybe Maman just couldn’t hear him when he was so deep under the water. Maman wouldn’t mean to hurt him.
The water churned against his limbs, thwarting his efforts to kick and paddle back to air. He was quickly losing hope that there was any kind of escape. This is what baby birds who fall from their nest too early must feel like. Weak, defenseless, kicking and screaming and fighting to stay alive in a terrain that only wants them dead.
At least those birds can breathe.
Adrien stopped fighting when fatigue overtook him. His legs went limp and arms crossed his torso, enveloping himself in a tight hug under the water. There was some comfort to be found in that, even in the worst situations. He let the water envelop him, too tired to continue. His muscles eased, repeating the lesson he’d learned just before. Pain and terror are so much more comfortable once you stop trying to fight them.
His eyes closed. His body stopped screaming.
Then it was over.
Fresh air swarmed his lungs, bringing up the chlorinated water he’d swallowed. It tasted like stomach acid and summer.
“My poor little minnow,” Emilie murmured as she sat him on the wall of the pool. He coughed and gagged as she slowly rubbed his back, occasionally raising her hand to pet his soaked, ruffled hair. Her voice—usually spilling over with emotion—was monotone and brief, like she was stating a fact. There was no comfort in her words, only recognition that he was suffering. No apology, no explanation. No loving coos and empty promises of safety. Only a mother and her son.
“I-I couldn’t breathe, why Ma—” he sputtered, coughing and stumbling over the words.
She cut him short.“I already said, Adrien. No more squalling.”
He was quiet. His lungs still ached and his throat felt like it was burning, but his lips remained sealed. Any screams or cries were trapped out of his reach.
“You’re okay, aren’t you? No blood, no bruises. Good as new.” She beamed at him. “Nothing bad happened, darling. Let’s get you toweled off and head inside for lunch. You can learn to swim tomorrow.”
Emilie swam through the pool, leaving Adrien sitting on the edge. He watched her silently as she ascended the steps out of the water and made her way to him, then plucked him from the ground like a feather. He usually loved when Maman would carry him around on her hip. This time he felt like a prisoner of sorts, anchored to her side while his own emotions, thoughts, and wants were cast aside to cater to his warden.
“Yes, Maman.”
#carpetbug writes#miraculous#miraculous ladybug#ml#adrien#adrien agreste#emilie agreste#emilie#la llorona fic#one shot#ml fic#spits this at you and runs away like a scared lizard#sharing my writing makes me so much more anxious than my art for some reason lmao#anyways. hope yall enjoy
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bellamy smut? rough sex with aftercare maybe
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3rd person pov
Usually, y/n has her days off, but being a noncriminal on the ground with the 100 makes life hard. No one but two people like her. Everyone else thinks she’s stuck up, even though she has yet to do anything to them.
Murphy is one of the many people down here who hate her, and since he slightly has power because of his best friend, he uses it.
He had come to y/n’s ten tonight to tell her to work on the drop ship, knowing it was her day off and that she wanted to party, but he refused. Because he’s so intimidating, she listened, and here she is. Working on the drop ship.
“How’s your night?” Bellamy asked, scaring the hell out of y/n. “Fuck, Bell!” She shouted as she dropped her tools, making him laugh as he came through the front door.
“My Night is going great. So great,” Y/n said as she picked the tools back up and kept working, not letting Bellamy stop her from finishing the rest of what she had to do.
She’s working quickly, hoping she can still attend the party, but Bellamy knows she won’t. She had too much to do and she kept messing up.
“Please, for the love of god, can you leave? Like give me some space so I can finish,” y/n grew annoyed at his presence. She probably hates him the most, since he’s the leader around here and lets things slide when it comes to her.
“C'mon princess,” Bellamy smirked at her as he walked her way. Y/n sighed loudly, now angry. “Don’t call me that,” she tried keeping herself together. “Why? Isn’t that what you are? You know, since you’re not really a criminal. Since you’re one of them,” he said, now behind her as she was sitting on the floor, not facing him.
“You’re one of them too, Bellamy,” she rolled her eyes before messing her work up for the 7th time again tonight. Y/n dropped her tools and then covered her face in frustration.
“What’s wrong with you?” He laughed, knowing exactly what was wrong with her. He just loves teasing her and making her life hard. He can’t go a day without teasing her.
“Bellamy, please,” y/n said low, tears filling her eyes already. Y/n held her head up, hoping the tears wouldn’t roll down her face. She had put eyeliner and mascara on for the party.
“Are you seriously crying? Cmon y/n, the party isn’t even that serious-“ he tried saying. “To you! They’re not serious to you,” y/n calmed herself down, but still shocked Bellamy.
“I don’t know what you drank today to make you talk to me like that, but don’t drink that shit again,” Bellamy said, seeming a bit closer to y/n’s back then before, sending shifters down her body.
“Well maybe if you leave me alone, I wouldn’t have to raise my voice,” y/n said in a low town, trying to get out what she wanted without Bellamy getting upset, but there was no point.
“You just don’t know when to shut up, huh?” Bellamy harshly gripped y/n’s hair, causing her to whine. “Huh!?” He shouted, waiting for an answer, but she had no idea what she should say. What would she say?
“Answer me,” Bellamy said in a very serious tone, slightly intimidating y/n. “I-I’m sorry,” she apologized. “Are you really though?” Bellamy asked, moving Y/n’s head, basically telling her to turn around and so she did. Now she’s on her knees, looking up at him.
“I am,” she said low, feeling the grip on her hair tighten every few seconds. “I don’t think you are,” he said, scanning her face with a lot of dirty images in his head.
“Maybe you should show me how sorry you are,” he said as he placed a hand on her cheek, rubbing it with his thumb. “And maybe then, I’ll believe you,” he added as y/n kept silent.
Bellamy slowly moved his hand from her face just to fondle with his belt and zipper. Y/n’s heart was pounding, but she wasn’t moving. She just stayed there and watched as he pulled his cock out.
“Be a good princess, and suck,” he said with his cock in his hand, slowly guiding himself towards her lips until his tip pushed through them. “Yeah,” he breathed out as his manhood made its way into her mouth until every inch was hidden.
“Take me so well,” Bellamy felt his cock twitch as he pulled out just to push all the way back in. “Maybe you’re not so innocent after all,” he said now moving his free hand to grip the side of her face.
“Relax your throat, princess,” Bellamy said before pulling y/n into the quick and hard thrust he just started, causing her to gag. “Mhm,” he groaned as her tears streamed down her cheek from how quickly he made her gag.
“Look at you,” he smirked down at her, watching his cock move in and out of her thick lips. “Takin' cock like a good girl. Never thought it would be this good,” he said, speeding his paste-up.
“Gonna let me do this from now on?” He asked, hoping she’d answer, but she didn’t. She couldn’t. “Don’t worry, I know you will.” He said in a slightly dark tone, triggering y/n’a mind, but that meant nothing. She’d let him do this again…
Y/n lifted her hands up to rest her hands on his lower stomach and pushed, hoping for some air, but Bellamy wouldn’t budge.
The man snapped his hips into y/n’s face, forcing her to take it all as she moaned and begged on his cock, only bringing him closer to the edge.
“D-Don’t, don’t! Don’t you fuckin dare mess me up,” Bellamy cussed, angry she was fighting back now when she could have before, but she needs air, and he was not having it to her.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Bellamy pulled out and pulled y/n to her feet before turning her around and pushing her up against the cold drop ship's wall. “Can’t keep fuckin’ still, huh? Can’t be useful for once!?” Bellamy grew angry.
He was close, and she had messed him up. It felt so good, but she couldn’t hold on for a few seconds. She’s always fucking up.
“I’ll keep you still then,” Bellamy growled in her ear as he pulled her dress up. “Bell, please — I-I just needed air,” y/n begged, but of course, he didn’t listen. He knew that, but couldn’t care less.
“Shit the hell up,” he said before pushing into her without any warning. Y/n’s loud moan was cut off by Bellamy's big hand covering her mouth.
“Keep it down!” He growled again, knowing he wanted her to moan like this. So what someone come in and sees? He’d plan to tell people she’s off limits sooner or later anyway.
“Bell!” Y/n cried out as her legs began to shake. “Gonna cum on my cock? What a slut, hm? Can’t even fuck you for 2 seconds,” Bellamy harshly said, speeding his thrusts and making her cum undone all around him.
“Yeah, that’s it. Cum on me, princess,” Bellamy smirked against his now-claimed girl's cheek. “Yeah, gonna let me fill you up too? Hm? Tell me, baby. Tell me you want me to fill you up,” Bellamy whispered in your y/n’s ear.
It was hard to hear for y/n as his thrust, her heartbeat, and her orgasm had gotten too much to her head. Her mind was going blank.
“Nah uh, tell me now,” Bellamy’s nails dug into y/n’a skin, forcing her to answer. “P-Please do,” y/n’s legs felt like they gave out on her. “Please,” she begged repeatedly until his thrust grew sloppy.
“Fuck yeah, keep talkin’, baby, keep fuckin’ talkin’,” Bellamy pushed up into y/n, digging his cock in her cunt so deep, she felt a bit of pain but so much pleasure. “Yes, princess, yes,” Bellamy groaned loudly hastily as he spilled in her.
“Oh shit, baby,” Bellamy moaned in y/n’s ear, making sure she knows they belong to her now. “So obedient and tight. Can’t let you go,” Bellamy kissed Y/n’s cheek, still slowly stroking into her.
“W-What about the girls? T-The ones who like you?” Y/n asked, feeling tears run down her cheek again. “No, no, you don’t worry about that. You relax and stay pretty,” Bellamy wiped y/n’s tears, still giving her short kisses on her cheek.
“And I’ll make sure no one teases you but me, princess. Can’t have my baby getting riled up for some other dude, am I right?” Bellamy’s cock, stayed still, deep inside of y/n.
“R-Right,” y/n whined. “Good girl,” Bellamy continued his thrust as y/n’s hands slid up the wall, holding herself up. That’s when Bellamy let her hair go and slid his hands onto hers until they locked.
“You let me breed you even though I tease you every day. Bet you’ve always loved it, hm? Always wanted me to love on you just like this,” Bellamy spoke, never taking a break from his bullying.
“S-Stop,” y/n felt embarrassed. “C'mon, baby. Don’t get shy. I wanna breed you again,” he said, feeling his second orgasm come around as y/n moved her hips back into his pelvis.
“Knew you want more,” Bellamy said before moving around y/n’s face to connect his lips to hers. The two went on for the night, so long she had forgotten about the party and her work.
After they were done, Bellamy walked y/n to his tent to get towels and some clothes for her to wear after they took their showers.
The shower was a bit long. They had their few rounds and then washed each other up with smiles and giggles.
A few people came to the showers, seeing them both and of course, y/n was afraid Bellamy wouldn’t stick to his words, but he did.
He kept up his love act and when they tried saying something to or about her, he shut it down with a few threats.
Bellamy and y/n are now lying in bed, feeling on each other and talking about what they plan to do with each other and why it took them so long to get there.
#bellamy blake smut#bellamy imagine#the 100 bellamy#bellamy x reader#bellamy blake#dark!bellamy blake#obsessed#18+#18+ content#18+ fic#18+ minors dni#18+ only#18+ post#smut
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GEH I JUST REMEMBERED WHEN DURING THE END OF OUR TIME AT COMIC CON killing stalkking GIRLTRIED TO DIAGNOSE ME WITH ANXIETY. ONE YOUR PERCEPTION OF ME IS WRING AND TWO HAS IT EVER OCCURED TO YOU THAT PEOPLE CAN HAVE ISSUES OTHER THAN THE PALATABLE SANITIZED VERISONS OF ANXIETY AND DEPRESSION YOU THINK YOU UNDERSTAND??????
#jesse.txt#Just remembered that she tried this shit again#This shit being her trying to figure out why I take medication#I think she'd scream if she head that I'm a dissociative psycho#ofc I will keep my safety in mind an never tell her Yada Yada#But like my greatest fear besides everything else is how people think of me#Ugh whatever I just gotta brush this shit off her ideas and opinions don't matter because she sucks#I just am trying to put up with her cause our moms are friends and we both have the same life Yada Yada#And now I have to be EXTRA FUCKING CAREFUL because my mom talked to her about moving into the same complex#Fukicng kill me ARGH
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the mental image of shidou approaching kazui from behind like "oh, mukuhara, i had to ask you-" and kazui turns around with red eyes, fangs, and a lil blood on his face, which makes shidou give the highest pitched little yelp and nearly stumble back and fall on his ass. amane will NOT let him live it down. she saw. she saw how he screamed like a girl.
Sorry to hold onto this for so long but Thank You I was laughing so hard at this!! 😂 When I originally wrote that comment, I was picturing the easy targets like Fuuta or Haruka -- it was so much funnier to catch Shidou unawares...
Shidou rubbed two fingers to his temple. He didn’t know why filming had been starting so early the past few days. According to the schedule, Muu and Kazui were already up and working. Milgram’s team had a doctor on their staff already, but Shidou liked to be around just in case -- even after a night cut short on sleep.
It should be noted that horror films had absolutely no effect on Shidou, so joining the children’s scary movie night had not been an issue. Rather, Fuuta hanging out in his room to talk, “not scared at all,” for hours afterward kept him up. He hadn’t pulled such a late shift since he’d been working at the hospital.
“Hm… some coffee may do me well…”
He didn’t usually indulge in the drink, but a small cup of it sounded good at the moment. Now that he was working on quitting smoking, he may as well pick up another habit in its place...
The break room was dark when he arrived. He had to blink after exiting the bright white hallways of the facility. He was tempted to flick the lights on, but Kazui and Amane seemed perfectly content in the dark. The light may have been too harsh at this time of morning.
Kazui had his back to the door, pouring some coffee. Amane sat at the table off to the side. She was picking at a small breakfast. The whole scene felt... off somehow. Kazui was still in his pajamas. He never left his room like that. Amane's eyes followed Shidou all the way into the room.
“Good morning.” Shidou greeted her with a bright expression. She kept her face straight, moving some food around in front of her. She stayed silent.
“You’re certainly up early! It’s very admirable.”
No smile.
Shidou’s expression wavered. The thought of scary movies still in the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but imagine this as a scene straight out of one. Amane’s grim silence in the darkness. Her intense green eyes fixed on him from across the room. He was glad for Kazui’s presence, else he might have actually been unsettled.
He tried to ignore his grogginess. There was nothing strange happening.
“Ah, Mukuhara. Is there enough coffee for m-eugh!”
Kazui spun around, and Shidou found himself face to face with a monster.
His eyes were slitted, like a wild animal’s, and bright red. Even in the dark, Shidou could clearly see the vibrant irises. There was blood spattered across his face, and his chest. He opened his mouth, revealing gleaming fangs.
But the voice that came out was just as laid-back as usual.
“Oi, Kirisaki… I forgot I was already in costume. Looks pretty realistic, huh?”
“R-right.” Shidou willed the shock away from his face. He realized with horror he'd taken a full step backwards. He hurried to close the gap again. “The team did a good job…”
“I’m bringing Muu some coffee while she gets her makeup done.” He lifted the cup in his hand, which had a coating of what Shidou now knew was entirely fake blood. Kazui’s smile was a bit crooked, revealing one of his fangs. He had the decency to ignore the mortifying sound that had just come from Shidou’s throat. “There should be plenty left for you, if you wanted.”
“Of course, of course. Thank you.”
“Sorry if I surprised you,” he said. Kazui brushed by him, unable to stifle a little chuckle.
Shidou dragged a hand down his face. He exhaled, glad to feel his pulse returning to a normal rate. His mind was far too scattered this time of morning. He glanced over at Amane.
“I suppose you think this is funny? My surprise is merely a compliment to the makeup department.”
She kept her gaze on him. “No, it’s definitely funny. You jumped halfway across the room.”
“It was one pace backwards.”
“It was a huge jump. Plus, you screamed like a little girl.”
Now, she smiled.
#milgram#shidou kirisaki#kazui mukuhara#amane momose#lights camera sing your sins#instead of getting physically attacked in t3 amane launches a devastating verbal campaign against him....#any time shidou tried to give her Adult Advice or a lecture or something she just glares at him like#'HEY remember that time kazui scared the shit out of you?'#even if he isnt scared of horror movies it set the tone just enough to worm its way into his subconscious 😂#(i pictured yuno fuuta mikoto and kotoko there too!)#(mahiru is neutral on them but didnt want the younger kids to feel left out)#shidou is mortified that he hurt kazuis feelings by being afraid of his 'true self' or something#meanwhile kazui is strolling around with the biggest confidence boost in the world because HE scared the unshakable shidou kirisaki#hes practically giddy about it#thanks again for waiting!! the ask just tickled me so much 😂#drabbles
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Hihi, me again ☺Hope you're doing well. I was wondering, do you think Eddie is insecure? He seems so confident and sure of himself but the bullying can't have gone by without leaving a mark on our poor boy
I think everyone in the entire world is insecure in some way or another. I don't think Eddie is exceptionally insecure compared to average. He - fully aware of where he stands in social status at the school - full on invited a cheerleader who is the girlfriend of one of... well, enemy is a bit strong, but you get what i mean when I say, the girlfriend of one of his enemies back to his place to sell her the Extra Drugs, instead of telling her he could bring them the next day or something. At some point these kids looked at him and said "we need you to play the guitar to distract a bunch of monsters and also the fate of the town and maybe the world depends on you doing this" and he was like sure I'm in, I'm capable of that. I think he was genuinely surprised to find that he "ran away" from what happened to Chrissy BECAUSE he isn't normally like that, he normally has confidence in his capabilities.
This isn't to say that bullying didn't have an effect, or that he couldn't be hiding insecurities. Everyone does that. He probably does that. But also sometimes bullying goes the other way, if you've got enough "fuck you" inside and a parent or guardian and/or friend(s) that has got your back. Sometimes that kind of confidence isn't covering up insecurities. Sometimes it's the result of the same kind of interactions as the one he had with Jason in the lunchroom. Sometimes, if you've bitten back hard enough a few times, you reach a point where you find out your bullies are scared of you. The point where you can jump up to high ground and challenge them in front of everyone, and all they'll do is tuck tail.
#stranger things#eddie munson#i'm sure he'll find things to be insecure about#but it won't be anything the bullies have tried#also not for nothing but we see it with the bullies in S1 too#El bit back HARD#twice#and did we ever hear from them again on screen?#I don't remember seeing them ever again#i say what I say because when I was VERY little#someone attempted to bully me#my mom listened to me and then basically told me#well that's stupid and she's wrong and I was like welp#my mom's right! and went back and took no shit ever again#even though a LOT of other people tried over the years#so I know sometimes a switch just flicks#maybe it did for him maybe not#but I think he's just genuinely confident
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After years of my mom obsessing over my hair and forcing me to do various treatments on it and threatening punishment if I didn’t comply. I’ve come to understand why Britney shaved her head that one time. I know that was something she did as part of a mental breakdown but fuck yeah good for her. I get it.
#and the stupid bitch still doesn’t get it or maybe she refuses to#like you can’t pretend you’re just worried and you don’t understand why I’m angry when you’ve spent years strong arming me into#putting castor oil in my hair and attempting to put mayonnaise in it and I think the only thing that stopped her was my dermatologist#bc he said it wouldn’t do anything at best and also don’t put fucking condiments in your hair#but she really wanted to and I don’t remember this but she might’ve hit me over my refusal#and she’d threaten to take my phone away or deny me something else if I didn’t let her do shit#and then recently she FaceTimed me while I was at DND and tried persuading me to see an endocrinologist#like saying oh she had a friend with the same problem and went to an endocrinologist and the birth control was the issue#(never mind the fact that my BC is the reason I don’t have painful cystic acne anymore and do have a regular period again)#and she was trying to push me into going#and I kept saying I wasn’t having this conversation w her now bc I was busy and she was just like ‘so when are we going to have it’#and basically trying to push past my boundary of I’m fucking busy and this conversation doesn’t need to happen now#I just hung up on her and went on airplane mode but fuck even thinking about it makes me so angry like I want to punch her kinds of angry#and honestly if she hadn’t kept ignoring me and hadn’t kept trying to have this conversation after I said I was busy maybe I would’ve taken#it into consideration and looked into seeing one sometime#but honestly now I absolutely fucking refuse unless my doctor and I agree it’d be a good idea#fuck off mom fuck off and mind your own fucking business#personal#erika's blog and bar
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Tfw your parent tries to gaslight you by saying you agreed to something and were there when an event happened even though they never told you shit/you weren't even fucking there:
#becky txt#my mother tried to tell me i agreed to her getting back together with my abusive father when i was younger#that i was there when she bought the rings#i wasn't fucking there and it feels like i got stabbed in the heart because i remember#telling her if she ever got back together with him she'd never see me again#yet she still was going to go back to him. the only reason she didn't was because he met my step mom#and chose her instead of my mother#my mother chose an abusive piece of shit over me and it hurts. i always thought I got through to her#when i gave her that threat at 16. then apparently she gets the rings almost a month later after that?#she doesn't fucking care! now i know why she holds a grudge against my stepmom. she still wants him back#just jesus tap dancing christ
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no pairing in the world will ever serve as much cunt as a courier x benny one, i will die with this truth in my heart
#rena.txt#benny is bi btw you can try and tear away from me this notion but i will bring it with me in the grave#like it might be my bias for my moira/benny but like the insanity of it all makes me delirious.#this guy in a fucking checkered suit talking all weird puts a bullet through the couriers head but he's so fail cringe that they survive an#now they are hunting him down. like for me the funny thing with moira is that it's all a matter of obsession. you saw me put benny under#enemy & lover in that template but lord is it all in her head. like she wakes up after a near death experience with half of her memories#lost and pre-incident moira would've tried to get the package back only out of spite but in this case it's simply bc..she is missing a#purpose now. she doesn't remember any family or friend or personal desire beside the fact she was there to deliver a package and she doesnt#even know what's inside. retriving is the only purpose to keep on living now. that and revenge which leads to obsession. but along the way#as she discovers piece after piece of benny. retracing the road that lead him to her..obsession gets more and more intense and suddenly#he's like a lover to her like they just had a silly little lovers quarrel that ended with a bullet. and it's all in her head and ofc ALL on#sided like the only interaction is the canon meeting at the tops that leads to the canon fucking akfjskf (again very silly cringe fail of#benny to even accept fucking the person he thought he killed. i love him) and it's like. the whole road she did with this idea of meeting#him and love (lmao) but he's there now and she can't kill the revengeful part of her obsession and for a second it's all like a dream. THE#dream that lived so long in her head. the ILLUSION. but now it's all so real and the Only end here is his death and she doesn't avoid it.#she embraces it she's HAPPY to kill him to have her revenge but the obsession..the obsession never leaves. now that he dies what's left?#and what about all the lil movies of them (insane) she played in her mind? so she's crying and laughing at the same time now in a mixture o#euphoria for finally taking tf out from the world that piece of shit and pain for the end of her little mind-movie. a fight between#irreality and reality. her illusions and the cold dead body resting next to hers.#i could eviscerate this concept forever just know i love my insane lil gal
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when ww said "this is not my life, I'm no survivor, i only happened to survive"
#he gets it he really does.#hate when ppl call me resilient or are proud of me for surviving shit. girl i did not do anything to be here now. in fact quite the contrary#i am permanently in survival mode and I'm trying so hard to turn it off. but mostly in 1 direction and not the one most ppl hope#sigh. I'm tired man 😐 i just started new mood stabilizers and I'm anxious as fuck#(well. not new. i was on them before when i was a teen. can't remember why i stopped tho)#the whole trying new pills is depressing bc well. there's p much nothing left for me to try#i had a call with her this week. i mentioned it i think. but most of it was trying to figure out if there's meds i never tried out there#the only other one we considered to maybe replace my current antidepressant is very new to the market aka she doesn't know what it does yet#so. instead of replacing. adding stabilizers and hope they don't make things even worse (but lbr they probably will)#I'm very close to giving up yet again. idk what there even is to give up on anymore. my life is nothing with a side of void#but giving up is the only thing i know how to do. I'm too anxious to do anything else. i don't know how to do anything else#hhhhhhhhhhhhhhh really wanna cut rn but i already have some wounds on my hands and arms + I'm in enough pain as is so what's the use#vent#i should sleep. idk if i can. I've been trying all day and failed. I'm so tired#i wish i didn't wake up man 😐 i wish i died. tonight#suicide //#not really but implied ig#self harm mention //#ask to tag
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You know what ? BOTH of Meredith's parents are absolutely awfull. I HATE them. I thought her dad was cute and just a little lost and awkward, but no. I must have forgotten how a fucking douche he was.
Fuck him.
#i just watched susan's death#and he fucking HIT his daughter ???#he UNIVITED her from the funeral ????#BECAUSE SHE TRIED TO DO HER JOB ????#fuck him deeply#i want to cut his throat#I HATE HIM#I didn't remembered that part but ooooh guys i will never forget again#YOU'RE AN ADULT AND SHE IS YOUR DAUGHTER#GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER#IT'S NOT HER FAULT!!!#PEOPLE DIE !#THEY DO !#ALL THE TIME !!!#YOUR EX-WIFE DIED !!#IT'S NO ONE'S FAULT !!!!!!!!!!#(i had to pause because I wanted to throw a table)#grey's anatomy#meredith grey#S3E24#thatcher grey#susan grey#(also it's the 3rd time they talked about Lexie but we haven't meet her yet- I WANT TO SEE MY LOVE)
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.
#hm#hmmmmmmmmm#you know what i was thinking#this probably sounds way too conspiratorial or maybe other people were thinking it and i missed it bc i was mia#but does anyone else think about how j**** already tried to sabotage d*d once#by serving her those papers and making all the news stories about that rather than the film#and then think about what happened over the last few weeks#bc i remember reading whichever interview she said she that whole farce wasn't surprising to her and she left that rs for a reason#and i remember thinking damn he's not gonna like that and thinking he was gonna make promo so messy#and honestly i forgot he existed until this weej#and i was like wow i was wrong he didn't even try to stir up drama during promo#and then i was like hm 🤔 or did he#like i truly tried to avoid everything that was being said so idk where it was coming from or what exactly went down#but from what i understand it was all anonymous sources no?#which to me like...given the way the general public was eating it up you'd think whoever it was would've revealed themselves for the clout#like everyone would've been on their side#UNLESS it was someone who knows that being caught shit talking and spreading rumors about her would not be flattering for their image#and i cant think of very many people that applies to tbh#just interesting that's all#again that might be a little too conspiracy leaning for me#and is probably the result of my ocd brain STILL ruminating over this shit bc it bugs me and i want someone to blame 🤭#i wish i knew how people just let shit go bc my brain physically will not let me when it's something that bothers me so much#anyways ignore me i need to get back to studying
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